


Memories and Anniversaries

by Pegggy21



Series: Derek and Stiles in the woods [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek hale is a good guy, Derek hale notices things, Derek shows Soft Side, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Soft Feels, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski Has Panic Attacks, Stiles is pretty sad but not for forever, bed sharing, derek and stiles share a bed, good feels, scent masking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 06:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegggy21/pseuds/Pegggy21
Summary: Stiles thinks he has to figure things out on his own.





	1. Memories and Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> OK guys this one doesn't end super happy, I promise part two will. Sorry to leave it like this.

Derek was touching him all the time now. At first Stiles thought it was a pack/werewolf thing. Scott touched Kira, seeming to want to scent mark her. Boyd and Erica always had an arm or leg on the other. Mila, Theo, and Liam always puppy piled around each other. Ethan and Jackson were the only fairly ‘adult’ ones but even they touched more than Stiles expected. Derek, though, didn’t do the sprawling thing with everyone else, just him. Stiles tried to figure the pattern out.  
The anniversary of his mother’s passing was encroaching and with is his anxiety hitched to an all time high. Stiles’ father kept sneaking fatty food, Scott seemed hellbent on getting himself killed, Issac was still dealing with the abuse of his father, Boyd and Erica couldn’t stay off each other for more than two seconds, Theo was a little bitch, and he was still trying to not let how what he did was effecting him. Pack meetings grated on his nerves now. The wounds may have healed but the scars never will. As Stiles looks into their now happy faces he sees double. He sees the terror he caused. He cant make himself look at Scott. Stiles sat on a loveseat alone with his elbows on knees. He lets his hands hang between his knees, flexing his fingers. He can feel Scott’s blood on his hands, feel ripping flesh under his nails. For a moment he can see the blood on his fingers, he jerks back into his chair. He looks around again, no one noticed the blood so it must not be real. Stiles ran his hands over his face, and his fingers across his jaw and chin. His rune for hiding scents must be working. He had been reading a lot of druid books and trying to have Deaton help him learn how to control his spark. He didn’t want these wolves to know what he was feeling all the time. Scott was one thing, but Derek? Boyd? Erica? Theo? They didn’t get to know. Derek seemed to be able to read him anyway though. Derek was sitting across the room, staring at Stiles intently. Derek made some comment that Stiles missed and went to the kitchen. He came back with drinks, instead of sitting back in his seat he plopped next to Stiles. Stiles knew what he was doing, he knew Derek would throw an arm over him now. Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to fight it though. Loud discussions of what to watch were being had. Stiles didn’t want to be here anymore. Then a large, muscular, warm arm made its way around his shoulders. Derek’s hand rested on Stiles’ shoulder and Derek’s fingers played with the seam of Stiles’ shirt. Stiles refused to lean into Derek fucking Hale. Stiles fought the impulse for the opening credits of the movie, then as the actors began weaving their story he found himself relaxing. Before long his back was resting on Derek’s front and Derek’s hand was lower on Stiles’ arm still playing with his shirt. Halfway through Stiles fell asleep. Derek smiled at his peaceful face, traced lines between the moles on his cheeks and neck. Mission accomplished.  
When Stiles woke he didn’t know where he was. Panic raced through his veins. He laid very still, trying to remember. There was something very warm at his back, no, someone? He sat straight up and whipped his head to look. Derek? Did he just sleep with Derek? This thought seemed to wake the other man up. Derek blinked a few times and frowned at Stiles. When Derek didn’t say anything Stiles felt his emotions hit him even harder than last night. He stood, crammed his shoes onto his feet and made for the door. He could feel a panic attack brewing in the back of his throat and ribs. The now familiar band of anxiety was making breathing difficult. He made it to his car before he lost it. He could feel the weight of the world pressing in on him from all sides, the weight of failure. He disconnectedly felt the door of his Jeep open. He turned his head, half expecting the grim reaper to release him. Instead it was Derek. Derek was staring there uncertain what to do, like he knew touch helped but didn’t want to crowd Stiles. He was saved the decision when Stiles leaned into his chest. Derek put his arms around him, stroking his back and hair, and murmuring platitudes. Stiles was holding onto him so tightly, his face screwed up in emotions as he crammed it into Derek’s neck. Derek held him tight and ran his hands over his back and shoulders. After a few minuets Stiles seemed to calm and he pulled back. Derek instantly regretted the loss of contact. Stiles made a self-self-deprecating remark, and Derek looked at him.  
“After everything we’ve been through I’m surprised we can even function, Stiles. I see no weakness in needing comfort. None of us are as strong as we pretend.” Derek hoped Stiles understood. Stiles shook his head at Derek before launching into quick hug then leaving.  
Stiles thought he understood now. Derek wasn’t touching him because he thought Stiles was weak, it was because Derek wanted to be touched. Stiles must seem like the least threatening choice. Stiles wasn’t going to complain about the hottest man around getting up close and personal with him. Stiles would just have to keep his pants under control. He parked his Jeep at home and went inside. His dad was there and he shouted hello before getting in the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror. Playing lacrosse had kept him in shape, and now hunting monsters every other weekend was doing the same. He’d never be as built as Derek but he felt okay about how he looked. His hair and beard were getting a little long but he kinda liked the crazed lumberjack look. He assessed the runes that were healing on his ribs. His first three. One to keep the wolves from smelling his emotions, second to help him heal quickly, and the third to help him see patterns in situations. He knew next he needed to decide on a totem animal to help focus his energy, but he couldn’t decide between a fox or a raven. Every time he decided the other seemed to call to him. He showered and dressed in pajamas. He could feel the weight of his guilt pulling at his joints. Even alone he couldn’t escape what he’d done. His father called him to help with dinner and went. John was the one person he could talk to about this now. John knew more about grief than anyone should.


	2. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek helps Stiles realize he doesn't have to do this alone

Stiles couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t anything new, his nightmares at this time of year were always bad. But they had new fodder for torturing him now. His mother screaming at him turned into Issac, turned into Derek, faceless bodies he didn’t remember hurting, turned into Scott bloody before him. He woke most nights panting and covered in sweat. He decided to go on a drive to calm his nerves. He didn’t really mean to end up at Derek’s house. Honest. But he did. He sat in the driveway and looked at the house. Stiles suddenly felt stupid for showing up here, he shook his head and was about to start his Jeep again when the front door opened. Derek was in flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else. He looked sleep-soft and blinked at Stiles a few times. Derek yelled for Stiles to come in and stop worrying about everything so much. Stiles sighed and obliged. Derek was making hot chocolate in the kitchen when Stiles walked in, so he sat at the bar.  
“You smell like guilt, anxiety, and sadness.” Derek didn’t turn to Stiles as he revealed he could still smell Stiles’ emotions.  
“You shouldn’t be able to do that anymore.” Derek turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “I warded myself, so you shouldn’t be able to smell my emotions. Any of you.”  
“Now you smell like embarrassment too. You should talk to Scott.”  
“I- I can’t.” Stiles hated this. Hated having no one he could talk to. He had hurt them, what right did he have to complain about nightmares now?  
“What do you mean?” Derek leveled an unimpressed look at Stiles.  
“I caused all this. I killed people. I tried to kill Scott. What right do I have to complain now? I should be grateful I’m even alive. Not wishing-“ Stiles cut off, realizing what he was about to confess, he glared at Derek quickly. Derek seemed to hear it anyway.  
“You realize how stupid that is right? You were used like a puppet and forced to watch, no one could fault you for being fucked up after that.” Stiles leveled his own frown at Derek. Stiles’ didn’t have the energy left to fight him right now. Derek’s eyebrows alone could beat him in this state. Stiles knew he was looking at Derek too long, but he couldn’t stop. His stupid beefy chest was perfect, his stupid arms looked larger than Stiles’ head, and those plaid pajama bottoms looked terribly comfy and worn- wait.  
“Are those, my pajama pants???” Stiles couldn’t believe his eyes. Derek looked at his pants guiltily for a second, then crossed his arms over his bulging pecks and claimed innocence. Stiles threw himself on the couch and informed Derek he was too tired to drive home. Stiles didn’t think about how pleased Derek looked at that. Stiles also didn’t think about how he slept very late into the next day without a single nightmare. Or how Derek made him breakfast and actually treated him like an equal. No thoughts at all. Ever.  
Days passed without any more ‘Soft Derek’ as Stiles began to think of him. Then the anniversary hit. Scott tried calling, even showed up at his door. Stiles couldn’t accept his help, Scott’d just lost Allison. He did need Stiles’ old sadness on top of his fresh losses. His dad usually mourned by working a double, Stiles had been okay alone for a long time. Today he wasn’t, but he still couldn’t face Scott with this much pain. He was trying to let Scott in, but just couldn’t seem to find the words. So he sat in his closet and let the panic attacks wash over him. He quickly lost track of time. When his broken mind could torture him no longer he began disassociating. So much so that he saw his mother sitting in his chair. She was reading a book to someone but he couldn’t hear her words. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, she grew very still as she turned to face him. Her eyes grew wider and wider with fear. She screamed and begged him to spare her. To let her go. He curled farther into a ball. Next Derek came through his window, and came crouching before him. Stiles waited for Derek to save him as he had so many times before.  
Derek looked down on Stiles guilt ridden body sadly. Derek picked him up and put him into bed. Stiles rolled so he was facing disassociation dreamed Derek and put his forehead over his heart beat.  
“Why do I keep doing this to myself. Just because you seem to show only me Soft Derek doesn’t mean you feel the same way.” Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s firm chest and snuggled in more. “You could never love someone as broken as me.” Derek held on to Stiles for dear life. Had Stiles dreamt of him like this before? Had Derek missed panic attacks that got this bad? So bad Stiles had to hallucinate someone to hold him till he calmed down? Derek vowed to watch more closely, to make sure Stiles was never left alone with his ghosts again. He ran his hands over Stile’s back and into his hair. Stiles was relaxing bit by bit. Derek ran his fingers along the constellations of moles on Stiles neck and cheek, losing track of time. Derek decided to stay till Stiles woke up.  
Derek was real. Derek was real and Stiles had basically danced naked in front of him. Stiles could tell Derek was still asleep, so he slipped out of his arms. Stiles walked to his bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He splashed some water on his face a headed back to his bedroom. Derek was awake.  
“Hey man, how’d you sleep? As long as you don’t leave hair you’re welcome any time.” He winked at Derek and shot finger guns. Maybe he could divert the conversation. Derek stretched his arms, making his stomach muscles contract distractingly. Derek raised an eyebrow and huffed a laugh.  
Stiles and Derek relaxed around each other after that. Scott often found Stiles hanging out after work at Derek’s loft, or Derek doing research in Stiles’ room. None of the others seemed surprised at this newfound friendship. No one knew that most nights they shared a bed. Nothing sexual happened though. Stiles and Derek would lay in the dark and talk, just hold one another, or simply go to sleep. Derek just so happened to have the morning wood problem too, so they simply ignored it. Stiles needed this closeness. Someone who had been through just as much as he had. Derek seemed to need it too.  
Pack ‘meetings’ kept happening. Where Derek used to sit as far from everyone as he could and set his face to resting bitch he now joined in. He’d sit with Stiles and add witty remarks to the conversation or help pick out a movie. He’d engage. As it turns out Derek secretly likes chick flicks. He would fight to the end that he doesn’t, but when the girls won and watched ‘Leap Year’ Stiles watched Derek laugh and frown along with the plot. Stiles was wedged under Derek’s arm with his legs over Derek’s lap. Stiles watched the pack puppy pile with each other, snacks be stolen of other’s plates, and no one knew who’s drink was who’s. They were becoming a family. Stiles looked turned his head to Derek, Derek was already watching him. They smiled at each other for a moment. Derek touched his cheek here a cluster of moles resided. Derek slowly brought his face to Stiles’, and their lips touched. It was small as far as first kisses go, but Stiles would have it any other way. Stiles felt his world settle around him.


End file.
